Blood Runs Deep
by Healthy Insanity
Summary: Imagine if John Sheppard had a sister. Now imagine that she's about ten times worse than he is. Insert shudder here. Read and Review.
1. Proof that sisters are evil

Disclaimer: I actually dreamed this last night, and I couldn't help myself because it was so good. At least I think so. Review, people! Feed the beast

Blood Runs Deep

"Hey, Johnnny!" yelled a female voice, and Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard jumped almost halfway out of his skin and started choking on his coffee, what little of it he had in his mouth spraying across the table and his lunch as well as Rodney, who was unfortunately sitting across from him today. John coughed and spluttered (as did Rodney, only his was indignant coughing and spluttering), eyes wide as the same voice's laughter drifted over him. When he finally stopped dying, he wiped at the coffee spills on his face and turned, looking at the only thing he'd left behind on Earth.

"Jesus, Callie, what are you _doing_ here?" he demanded, and she grinned as he stood up, sauntering over with a shrug.

"Heard you were in another galaxy, came to see if it was true." she responded casually, looking at his lunch companions. "Also heard you were in a heap of trouble. I was concerned, but it looks like my Intel is out of date. Hi, how are ya?" She smiled at them, and then looked back at John. "I was hurt that you didn't call and invite me along." she told him, doing a fair impersonation of his pout. He rolled his eyes.

"It was classified." he argued, and she blinked.

"So?" she countered, and then laughed when he rolled his eyes.

"Colonel," said Rodney from his seat, and John looked at them all before wincing and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Old girlfriend?" asked the scientist, and John made a face, surprised and disgusted. Calypso snickered and then barked at him playfully.

"Ew, Rodney." he snapped, and Rodney blinked, but Sheppard sighed. "Guys, this is Calypso Sheppard, my sister," he said, much to the surprise of the entire team. Calypso smirked.

"Twin sister," she interjected.

"Callie, this is Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagen, and Rodney McKay."

"Dr. Rodney McKay, Astrophysicist," Rodney corrected, and she grinned, something that looked almost feral as she held out a hand, leaning on the table.

"Delighted," she replied. "I've heard so much about you." He blinked, looked at her hand, and then shook it, looking bemused. John twitched visibly, and then cleared his throat.

"Rodney, she's my sister, and she was married last time I checked." he said, and Rodney looked at him, face turning slightly pink as he let go of her hand. Cal seemed unphased, looking back at her brother.

"Divorced, actually, as soon as Dirk signs the last of the papers." she told him, and he blinked.

"Dirk?" he asked, and she gave a shrug, raising an eyebrow. "Who's Dirk? What happened to Anthony?"

"Anthony? Oh, he was a dirt bag." she snorted, folding her arms. "Restraining order." she added, and he rolled his eyes, slumping down into his seat. She leaned against the next table over, looking at them all. "So this is your team?"

"Yep, this is my team. How did you even find out about this?" he demanded, and she giggled.

"Was wondering when you'd ask. Eric has connections." she told him, and he stared at her blankly. "Eric; hubby number two? Keep up, Johnny," she chastised, and he blinked. "He was secret service, which I didn't find out till three months into the marriage, and then only because I hired a private dick to follow him around. Thought he was cheating on me, turns out he was protecting the president behind my back," she said with a smirk.

"I'm sorry," said Teyla, and Calypso looked at her. "A Private what?" she asked, and Rodney burst into laughter, almost choking on his food as he tried to control his giggles at Teyla's innocent question. Sheppard's ears turned a ruddy sort of color.

"It's slang for Private Investigator. P.I, sub rosa, magnum," he explained, and she nodded slowly, giving him her patented 'your ways are strange to me' expression. Calypso pointed at her as if something had just occurred to her.

"You're the alien that I heard about. Atheryan, Ayothis, no…" she snapped her fingers, looking to the side as she tried to come up with the word.

"Athosian," Teyla corrected, gently, and Calypso pointed at her.

"That's the one." she agreed. "Wow. When I heard alien, I was thinking green skin or scales or something. I'm almost disappointed."

"Cal!" hissed Sheppard, but his sister waved him off.

"So do you really understand what they're talking about or do you just humor them?" she asked, with a conspiratorial grin. Teyla let out a surprised laugh, smiling at Calypso, who gave a chuckle before looking at Ronon. "So who are you? You're not Ford, and I think I read about him in the file, but I could only get a ten minute glance and it was a very big file." she said, and Sheppard buried his head in his hands, groaning.

"Specialist Ronon Dex," he introduced, and she nodded.

"Specializing in…?"

"Killing Wraith," he answered bluntly, before taking a bite out of his bread roll. She nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah, read about them." she said, before shaking her head. "Not nice fellas." she observed. Rodney, back under control, took a drink of his water and shook his head.

"No they're not." he agreed. Then he tilted his head. "How many times have you been married?" he asked, and Sheppard's head jumped out of his hands, wide brown eyes staring at Rodney as if he were insane. Calypso thought for a moment.

"Eight," she told him, and now Sheppard's wide, staring eyes were fixed on his sister.

"_Eight?_" he demanded, and she smirked.

"Lookin for love in all the wrong places." she warbled, and John rolled his eyes in annoyance. Ronon and Teyla shared a look of confusion that went unnoticed by their Earthling colleagues. "I was surprised to find number three working at the SGC, actually." she said, looking up nostalgically. Rodney blinked.

"Who? No, wait, let me guess. Colonel Mitchell?"

"Who?" she asked, and he stared. "Nah, I'm talking about Walter,"

"_Harriman?!_" exploded both John and Rodney, and she snickered.

"I think he had about that look when I told him I wanted to know about what my brother's been doing for the last couple years." she confessed, and John just shook his head. Rodney looked up at her in awe.

"I was wrong, Colonel. You're not Kirk. The title clearly belongs to your sister," he said, with a decisive nod. Calypso raised an eyebrow.

"Oooh, a fellow Trekker, eh?" she asked, and John's eyes widened.

"Forbidden!" he snapped, and she pouted at him, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, come _on_, Johnny, we're all adults here," she said, and he pointed at her.

"Forbidden," he warned her, and she stuck her tongue out at him. This time Rodney shared in the confused look with Teyla and Ronon, because even though the word obviously had a meaning that was understood by the siblings, the rest of the team was mystified.

"Fine. I gotta go unpack anyways," she replied, and he froze, staring at her.

"Unpack," he said, slowly, but the panic in his eyes was clear. She nodded.

"Ye-up," she said, just as slowly, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"How long are you going to be here?" he asked, and she shrugged a shoulder.

"Until Weir sends me home. I signed up as a civilian contractor. I even offered to introduce her to some friends of mine who could help out." she told him, and he straightened, getting to his feet and following her as she headed for the door.

"Are you serious?" he demanded, and she grinned at him, causing a muscle in his cheek to twitch.

"Absolutely. I even got Weir's permission to join a team after some training and if anyone wants me. We're gonna spend _lots_ and _lots_ of time together," she smirked. "Colonel," she added, with a snicker. He narrowed his eyes again.

"You're evil," he growled.

Her laughter stayed with him as she moved down the hall.


	2. Old Habits die hard

"Okay, this is nuts. First of all, I didn't even know you _had_ a sister," Rodney started, and Sheppard groaned, letting his head drop back against the wall.

"Yeah, there's a reason for that, you know," he muttered, and Rodney snorted.

"Obviously it's because you fear a John Sheppard version of _my_ sister's visit," Rodney guessed, and the subtle shrugging of Sheppard's shoulders was the only confirmation the scientist got. "And you _should_ fear. You should fear _greatly_," he gloated, making Sheppard sigh and shaking his head, looking at the ceiling. "No, no, I put up with it for almost three weeks, it's your turn to take your medicine, '_Johnny_'."

Rodney was obviously having _way_ too much fun with John's little turn of misfortune. He eyed the geek.

"Yes, Meredith," he replied sullenly, and Rodney snickered, knowing that he was getting to the military man who was usually so ready with a witty comeback.

Over the next couple of days, John Sheppard could not go anywhere without running into his sister or hearing about her. She was the buzz of Atlantis, especially when he found out that she had the gene too (not surprising, considering they were twins), at a strength that rivaled his own, and boy did that just put him on the defensive right up front? To be fair, she was new, and John was certain that once she got over her new-ness, everything would fall back into place, and he'd feel better.

He wished however, as he noted the small group huddled around his sister in the mess hall, that they'd get over her new-ness soon.

"Hey, Johnny," she called, waving him over. He sighed and walked over, like a man taking his last steps towards an electric chair. "You didn't tell me you were a hero," she said, accusatorily, and he raised an eyebrow before shrugging.

"Just doing my job," he offered, and she snorted.

"Uh-huh," she said, looking at him like they were sharing some big secret. _Well_, he thought, _she'll understand that soon enough, if what I hear from Lorne is right._ "So, hey, you still up for a fight?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes, some of his old attitude coming back.

"Please. You can't touch this," he teased, and she grinned, standing up.

"Let's go, then," she challenged, and he raised an eyebrow at her before turning to go. "Hey, John?" she said, and he looked at her, but she just tripped him, and he squawked as he hit the floor. "Race ya," she called, as she took off. He scrambled to his feet as people hurried to get out of the way.

"You cheat!" he snapped as he dashed off after her, a grin stretching his features.

888

Elizabeth was furious, and John knew that he should be looking guilty, but it was all he could do not to keep from laughing, and he _definitely_ wasn't looking at Calypso, who sat in her seat biting her lip to keep the giggles in.

Kavanagh was furious too, which only made not laughing that much harder, considering that he'd come straight from the commissary, still wearing the food that Calypso had accidentally pushed him into.

"Atlantis is _not_ a personal playground, Colonel," Weir was ranting, and for his part, all John could do was nod and hope she didn't call for a verbal confirmation, because there was no telling how pissed she'd be if she thought he wasn't taking her seriously.

Calypso took in a shuddering breath as she too attempted to contain her laughter, and John couldn't help it, he looked at her. She was sitting there, lower lip firmly sucked into her mouth, teeth latched onto it, and there were tears streaming down her face as she trembled with unreleased laughter. A snort escaped him and she lost it, bursting out with a deep belly laugh that had her doubled over in her seat, and John wasn't far behind, sinking into his seat even as he knew that he would be facing an even more severe punishment.

Weir had stopped at the snicker, and she was now staring at the two laughing adults sitting before her as Kavanagh fumed, but when she looked at Kavanagh, she found that she had to take a moment to recover her composure. He just looked so ridiculous.

"Dr. Weir, I demand justice," Kavanagh blustered, and she shook her head, snorting in a very un-diplomatic way.

"Oh get out," she snapped. "All of you; out!" she ordered, complete with shooing gestures, and Kavanagh stormed out, but John and Calypso took forever, first having to find the strength through the laughter to get out of their seats, and then stumbling into each other before staggering out into the hall, still laughing like the hyenas they were.

888

"So hey, where's your room?" asked Cal, and John looked at her over his fork, which had stabbed what looked like stew meat, but could really have been anything.

"Uh…why?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"Cause I gotta sleep somewhere. Dork,"

"I thought you had a room? Egghead," he retorted, and Rodney looked at them both like they were insane before going back to his laptop and MRE.

"Whoever's in charge of it hasn't gotten around to it. Fluffy," she added as an afterthought and he scowled at her through a mouthful of food, one hand running over his hair almost protectively. Rodney stopped typing and seemed to have a small seizure before shaking his head and going back to his dinner.

"So where'd you unpack your stuff? Gack face." he asked, and she smirked, drinking her water to clear her mouth of food.

"In one of the rec room closets. Hairball."

"So sleep there," said John, with a shrug. "Imp," he added, and she grinned.

"Can't sleep there, jarhead, other people hang around there, I wouldn't be able to get my beauty sleep." she replied, munching on her salad.

"Kindergartener," he snapped.

"Loser." she shot back.

"Mullet head,"

"Neanderthal,"

"Oh god!" shouted Rodney, and they jumped, looking at him. He looked exasperated and amused at the same time. "I am trying to eat, here," he told them, and they snickered.

"You like it," Calypso scoffed, playfully. "So, Johnny, about that room,"

"You want it you gotta sleep on the floor."

"Oh, that's just mean."

"No," he insisted firmly. "I remember what happened the last time the family stayed at a hotel on one of dad's half-assed vacations. I really don't want to be suffocated in the middle of the night, you heat-seeking python," he accused, and she pouted for about a second before looking at Rodney.

"What about you McKay?" she asked, batting her eyes.

Rodney looked at her, a deer-in-headlights look on his face before he coughed.

"What?" he said, caught completely off guard, and she grinned predatorily. He looked flustered. "Uh…"

"Knock it off, Cal," John said, rolling his eyes. "We're not in high school anymore."

Rodney blinked, looking at his friend and team leader.

"What does _that_ have to do with anything?"

"Probably the fact that I dated all his friends in high school," answered Calypso, nodding when Rodney's eyes widened. "And his physics teacher," she mused. John pointed at her, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I still don't believe you about that," he told her, and she snickered.

"Senior year was my busiest of the four," she said conspiratorially. Rodney blushed. John just shook his head.

"Wow, that's crass," he said, but he was laughing underneath. She shrugged.

"So how 'bout it, McKay?" she asked, and he stared at her for a moment and then looked at John before mumbling something about the lab and retreating. John gave Calypso a look, one that she caught and raised an eyebrow at when she turned back to her food. "What?"

"Tread carefully, if you're thinking about pursuing McKay, sis. He's not like the other guys you've dated. Or…married, I guess," he said, still trying to wrap his head around that. She flicked a grape substitute at him, but he deflected it. "How does a person get married _eight_ times in the course of what, two, three years?" he asked incredulously, and she shrugged.

"Well, after I found out Anthony was a lecherous pig and got that restraining order, I met Eric, liked Eric, and three months later I was marrying Eric. A week after I found out he was secret service, he told me we could never see each other again, or it would compromise his position in the president's service. Couple weeks after I met Walter, which lasted all of a month."

"Seriously, Harriman?"

"I thought I needed stability. Walter's pretty stable, but after about two weeks, I was itching to get out of there." she told him. He raised an eyebrow, not saying anything. "Was married for eight months to an exec, but he has a thing for younger girls, so I left him, and took half of everything,"

"Good business tactic,"

"Yup. Then there was a drunk fling in Vegas—"

"No," John said, sounding scandalized, and she snickered.

"Oh, yes, little brother, I have been through the tunnel of love. That was annulled the next day. The sex was good though," she added, just to see her brother make faces. "Number six was a construction worker. He lasted the longest – a year – for one reason," she said, and the look on her face was grim. "It took me that long to find where he'd hidden the shotgun." John froze. After a short study of her face, he found that he didn't even want to know what kind of man she'd married.

"Jesus." John exclaimed, leaning forward. "Did you kill him?" he asked, and she looked at him, expression guarded.

"Would you hate me if I did?" she asked. John's first instinct was to get angry. Not at Cal, at the idiot who had dared to hurt her in any way at all. And he was angry at himself for not being there to bash the man's face in himself. He reined those emotions in and sighed, reaching over and taking her hand.

"I'm your brother." he told her. She relaxed almost immediately.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks," she said, and he shrugged, pulling his hand back.

"It's what I do," he replied. "So what about number seven?" he asked, and she raised an eyebrow before making a face.

"After the first couple of weeks, he started to remind me of you, which was just something so creepy that I didn't even want to contemplate," she said, shuddering. Her brother screwed up his face.

"Ew, Callie," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"And Dirk's cute, but he's not that bright, and I need more stimulating conversation than his workout routines and his ambition to join the Olympics." she finished. "There you go; the marriage history of your sister."

"Then I'd definitely say that McKay isn't like anyone you've ever dated or married." he confirmed. She nodded, looking at the doors through which the scientist had exited. After a moment, she tilted her head.

"He is hot, though," she noted, and he snorted, shaking his head.

"Please don't have that talk with me," he told her, and she chuckled.

"Who _should_ I have 'that talk' with?" she asked, challengingly. He took two seconds to think about it.

"Teyla," he answered. "She's good at the whole girly discussion thing."

"Yeah?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as if to ask just how he might have come by that little tidbit of information.

"Yeah," he answered, his face blank of expression, denying her an answer.

"Hmmm. Well, I'll think about it. What does Rodney like, though?" she asked, and Sheppard gave her an incredulous look.

"For that, you'd have to ask Rodney." he said, regretting it almost immediately at the look of intrigue on his twin's face. "Calypso, I'm begging you, please don't chase my geek. I need him for off world missions, and I can't take him off world if he's frazzled from dodging your come ons," he told her, and she grinned.

"Relax, Johnny," she told him, reaching across and patting his cheek. John was not assured in the least.

"At least get to know him first," he pleaded, receiving only laughter in response.


	3. You take the bad with the good

Disclaimer: Didn't really edit this one, so it's kind of word vomit chapter. If you see anything wrong with it, tell me so I can fix it.

Despite the fact that he loved his sister to death, John Sheppard would continue to get annoyed every time someone he wanted to talk to was busy 'hanging out' with his sister (because as a brother it was his duty to get suspicious of the intention of any male that came within ten feet of her). Teyla had already started teaching her on the sticks, praising her as a quick study, which made Carson ask a lot more frequently about this tic that he seemed to have developed. Ronon changed their running schedule around because Calypso was an earlier riser than John, and her running circuits wore the Satedan out.

John had fumed for days over that one.

And it pissed him off every time someone called for 'Sheppard' and then meant his sister. The only person who didn't do this was Rodney, but John had a sneaking suspicion that this was only because Rodney feared his sister. John had to smirk as his mind echoed Rodney's gloating words back at the genius. He _should_ fear. He should fear _greatly_.

"So you two had a falling out?" Rodney asked as they lounged in Rodney's room, drinking beer that had been smuggled to Atlantis aboard the Daedalus by a surprisingly easy going naked gray alien, and Sheppard gave another shrug. They were lounging in Rodney's room because as of yet, Calypso didn't know where that was.

"Not exactly; in fact, if she'd been along from the beginning, I'd probably have been cool with it." John answered, propping his feet up on Rodney's coffee table and folding his hands behind his head. Rodney looked interested.

"Very close siblings then,"

"Emotionally if not geographically," Sheppard agreed.

"Must have been nice," Rodney replied, almost wistfully. Sheppard looked at him from the corner of his eye and then shook his head.

"You'd have hated her." he said, drawing Rodney's attention. "She was just like me." he added, and Rodney thought about that for a second. "We got into the worst kinds of trouble," he continued wistfully. "We still had our own friends, I mean after we reached that age where you just need your own friends, y'know?" he asked.

Rodney nodded, even though he never had that age when he was growing up.

"Until we were twelve, you could not tell us apart. And we used that to our advantage, too. And then when we got older and started going to high school, I'd hit on her friends, and she'd hit on mine." he added with a nostalgic grin. Rodney shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"You would,"

"Yep." answered John, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Okay, I have to ask," Rodney said, and Sheppard looked at him. "What does 'forbidden' mean?" he asked, and John rolled his eyes.

"It was something we did when we were kids. If one of us didn't want the other to talk about a certain subject—"

"Like Star Trek, apparently," Rodney interjected, but Sheppard just talked a little louder, ignoring that Rodney had said anything.

"—then we'd say, 'you're forbidden to ever speak of that in or out of my presence unless I say it's okay', which – eventually – was shortened to just 'forbidden'," he explained. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Which just goes to show that you never evolved out of your childhood," he quipped, and John raised an eyebrow.

"If that's the case, then you know Calypso never did either," he commented, and to this, Rodney groaned, rolling his eyes and letting his head loll back on his couch.

"Why _is_ your sister such a freak?" he asked, and John looked at him.

"Hey," he cautioned, and Rodney glanced at him before shaking his head.

"I mean, sorry, but your sister is crazy."

"She is," Sheppard admitted with a nod of his shaggy head.

"She won't leave me alone, either. I swear it's getting so bad I won't even stay in the lab if it's just going to be me." complained the scientist, which only made John chuckle. "I am falling behind on several key projects, and it is not funny, John. So not." he added, pointing at the Lieutenant Colonel.

"Well what do you want me to do about it, Rodney, it's not like I can tell her not to go near the labs, she has clearance for everywhere, and she got her degree in Mathematical Theory the same time I finished college," he argued, not mentioning at all that they had continued their close friendship in college, even going so far as to get the same degree, with the same classes at the same time. They were even roommates, because it wasn't like either of them actually slept in the room anyway. Calypso didn't, anyway.

"Sure you can." Rodney countered, and John rolled his eyes, snorting.

"Okay, yes, I can, but let me ask you, do you think she'll listen?" he returned, eying the man pointedly with an arched eyebrow. "We are talking about my _twin_, remember?" he asked, and Rodney groaned.

"As if I could forget. You'd probably break my legs for going within two feet of her." he muttered, and John sighed a very put upon sigh.

"Why do you people insist on having these conversations with me?" he asked, and Rodney blinked owlishly at him. "Never mind. Rodney, if you go after my sister, just don't tell me about it." he said, and Rodney flushed.

"Oh, please," he scoffed, but John just drank the rest of his Daedalus smuggled beer and retreated from his best friend's room, shaking his head.

After a few weeks, things appeared to settle down into their new routine, and the only thing that was any different at all was that now Rodney got to sleep at a decent hour. Or at least, he got to his room.

Calypso's room was in a different hall from Rodney's (a personal request from the scientist in question), but close to the labs, which was the only suitable room in the sleeping quarters that Calypso would even look at because it was spacious and it had a balcony. It looked suspiciously like Rodney's room, actually, a thought that absolutely did not creep John out at all.

Lorne grounded Parrish, which wasn't all that bad; really, the botanist didn't want to go through the gate, and Calypso, well…the girl was practically vibrating as she waited for the ancient artifact to kawoosh her to an all new adventure.

They came back half an hour later, Gales was dead, and Calypso was bleeding, and she was way too subdued to be the woman who had been so eager for off-world travel, and John, who was there for their return and for Cal's medical examination (revealing that a few arrows had glanced off her shoulders and one had taken a chunk off her thigh but other than that and a busted lip, she was fine), knew that she got it now.

He half expected her to want to stay in Atlantis now, where it was relatively safe, but when Carson was patching her up, she asked, quietly, but determinedly, when she could resume her duties as an off-world team member. John had puffed up on the inside, and he clapped Cal on the shoulder that wasn't quite so sore and then left to brag about his sister's bravery to his own gate team.

And when Teyla was busy, he took over training with his sister for the day, which turned out to be a mistake. One moment of distraction, and suddenly he was curled up on the floor wondering why he couldn't hear out of one ear.

He was only temporarily deafened, and Carson had told him as much, but what did he expect from sparring with wooden sticks, and it really wasn't that serious, so would he please stop screaming at him, please? Cal had just sat there while Carson had helped her twin away to the infirmary for painkillers and a bandage. She'd been so angry.

Gales had been a blast.

He was smart, he was funny, he was nice.

He was dead.

She threw the stick she was holding across the room and then dropped to her knees, taking deep breaths and trying not to relive every heart-wrenching moment of the ambush. They were on their way to the village that they'd heard about, and Gales had been in the middle of a joke that he'd apparently told a million times. He was just about to deliver the punchline – she braced her hands against the floor and took deeper, faster breaths, tears falling to splash against the solid marble-ish floor.

The arrow had knocked him back a few feet, and they all stared in horror until Calypso, who had dropped to his side to see if he was still alive, jumped to her feet only to have an arrow fly through about an inch of skin on her thigh. She'd almost gone down and stayed down, and she probably would have if she hadn't remembered that she had a weapon too, and her arrows were smaller, faster, and no less deadly.

She sat on the gym floor for what seemed like forever until she heard a tinny squawk in her ear, and she tucked her memory into a box in the corner of her mind, wiping at her face.

"—pso Sheppard?"

"Yeah, McKay, what's up? Changed your mind about bunking with me?" she asked, with a weak chuckle. Hopefully he wouldn't know her well enough to know that she was just crying.

"Uh…no. Actually, I was wondering where your brother was, he's supposed to be helping me out in the lab, turning things on." answered the scientist, clearly distracted by whatever life-saving device he'd found that day. She smirked, feeling a little bit better already.

"I'd be happy to turn you on, Rodney," she teased, and there was a pause.

"Wait, what?" he demanded, and she laughed, pulling herself together and standing up.

"I'm joking, McKay. John's in the infirmary, I got a little enthusiastic with our sparring, and I boxed him a good one upside his head. But don't worry, he's got a thick skull." she assured him. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll sub in for him." she offered.

"Um, uh…"

"Good. See you after I shower."


	4. Fun with clothes

Calypso stared at Rodney from the doorway and thought to herself how bizarre it was that she thought he was so attractive, boisterous and condescending as he was to others. Then she thought to herself how she'd married Harriman, so she really couldn't talk, and she stepped into the room, decked out in low-riding, hip hugging, boot cut jeans, and a tight top that the custom decal was fading from. It was still legible (barely), and it read 'Talk Nerdy To Me', with a binary background that translated to 'Geek' over and over. On top of that she wore her Atlantis issue jacket. Her hair was French braided, and she was wearing her thigh holster. She just liked to wear it.

She liked the idea of walking around armed.

"Hey, Rodney," she started, and he jumped, wide blue eyes snapping up to look at her. He looked as if he were about to start babbling, but as soon as he saw her, he froze, blinked a couple times, and then just stared. She smiled at his shock and allowed him to ogle, just standing there for a long moment as his eyes traveled from her face to her shirt, which he no doubt understood with ease, if the twitch that the corner of his mouth gave, to her thigh holster. She raised an eyebrow as his gaze lingered there, and then she chuckled, bringing his eyes back to her face. He blushed, and she smiled, stripping off her jacket and then appropriating the corner of his desk to sit on. "So what was it you wanted me to turn on?" she asked mischievously, and he cleared his throat before getting to his feet.

"One of the Exploration teams found it in one of the empty rooms on a lower level somewhere in the vicinity of the north pier. We don't know what it is, and we don't want to risk an artificial gene having an adverse affect on its circuitry, so—" He told her as they walked into one of the rooms that branched off of the main laboratory. When she looked at him to see if he was going to finish that sentence he waved to it, and she snorted before walking over. She circled it for a long moment, her hands running over the surface as she concentrated, not yet sure exactly how the whole gene thing worked.

It was about a fourth of her height taller than her, with a console sort of panel that ran up before taking a ninety degree turn that ran out about a foot, and supported a sort of half dome structure, which actually looked kind of like just one cymbal. She walked around and ducked her head carefully forward to look under it, her green and gold specked chocolate eyes roving over what looked like a lot of flat and technologically advanced circuitry.

"Well?" asked McKay and she took a step back, studying it from a distance. A thought struck her, and she raised an eyebrow.

No way, she thought, even as a smirk tugged at her face and she unclipped her gun belt. She glanced at McKay, whose eyes quickly diverted from the activity on her leg to her face.

"I'm gonna need a chair, Rodney," she told him, and he nodded, going to the door and yelling for one of his minions to bring in a chair. In about a minute, after a squawk from the main lab, two other scientists rolled Kavanagh's chair into the room, and then just stared as Calypso set her gun aside, toed off her sneakers, undid the top button of her jeans and then started to pull on the hem of her shirt. She stopped when she saw the three male scientists staring at her. She blinked and then smirked, which seemed to bring Rodney out of his stupor. His jaw clacked shut, and he turned to his minions, who were still caught in the hypnotic death beam that was Calypso Sheppard.

"What are you doing?" he snapped, and they jumped. "That's the military leader's sister, who do you think you are?" he demanded, and they stumbled over themselves to beat a retreat, after which Rodney closed and locked the door. Cal snickered, and Rodney looked around at the room for something else to concentrate on as his best friend's sister continued to strip right in front of him.

"Appreciate the gesture, McKay," she said, and he cleared his throat.

"Why _are_ you…?" he waved his hands in her general vicinity. She smirked as she grabbed the chair and positioned it under the machine, sitting in it so that most of her nakedness was obscured from view.

"Just a hunch." she replied, and he looked at her incredulously.

"You are worse than your brother, you know that?" he asked, to which she just giggled, placing her (naked!)hands on the controls. Rodney took two steps closer and then stopped when he remembered that she was without clothing. With his luck she was without modesty either. He didn't think he could handle it.

"Okay, here we go," she muttered, as she sat back in the seat, reaching over to one of the arms of the device, waving her hand over a panel, which then began glowing, as did the cymbal shaped device over her head. Rodney's first instinct was to get nervous. This, of course, was a default reaction to anything that glowed just before it did whatever it was supposed to do, because no one ever knew if it was going to hurt them or not.

After a moment, the glowing stopped, and Calypso began to giggle. Forgetting his aversion to her nakedness (which wasn't so much an aversion to seeing her naked, just to the complications that would inevitably bring about), Rodney stepped forward and swung the chair around to face him, because really, what if the machine caused people to go crazy?

What he saw stunned him.

"Whoa," he said, sounding subdued as he took a step back.

Calypso was sitting there fully clothed, and her hair was…different.

The outfit she was wearing wasn't something he would have expected, not that he expected her to be wearing clothes at all, but still.

Black jeans covered in leather chaps vaguely reminiscent of Ronon's, a black T-shirt, frayed blue jean vest and black leather jacket, topped off with a hokey looking Sheriff's star that was pinned to her vest, and black, steel-toed, chain heeled boots. And that was just her outfit. Her hair was still black, and it was still curly, although just a little bit less, but the last half inch of every single strand of her now silky and split-end-less hair was now blood red.

Rodney stared. Calypso kicked her feet a little in excitement.

"That is _so_ cool!!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and looking down at herself, feeling the new clothes and running her fingertips (the rest of her hands were concealed in a pair of skin-forming leather), over the star. "Oh, man, that's awesome. Rodney, you've got to try it," she told him, and he stared at her.

"Uh, no, I'm good, thanks." he mumbled, but she rolled her eyes, taking a few steps towards him.

8888

"Colonel Sheppard?"

John looked up from fiddling with his ear wrap and tapped his radio.

"That's me," he answered, and the man on the other end (scientist. No military man would sound that timid. Hesitant to broach a subject maybe, but not timid) cleared his throat.

"I think you should come down to the lab, sir." he continued, sounding nervous.

"Why?" asked John, raising an eyebrow. Unless Rodney was threatening bodily harm, none of the other scientists requested his presence for anything other than to turn on whatever Ancient gadget was holding their interest that day. And since he didn't hear Rodney screaming in the background…

"Well, um, your sister…"

John sighed, shoulders slumping as he stopped walking towards the gym where he'd last seen his sister and turned towards the labs.

"I'll be right there," he groaned, in a put upon voice. He should have known. He was going to drop by the labs after checking on his sister, who had been disinclined to move after she'd smacked him in the side of the head with her stick, because he was supposed to be spending time in the labs today. It figured that Rodney would call looking for him. And since Cal would use just about any excuse to bother the easily flustered scientist…

John sighed again and stepped into a transporter, tapping his destination on the screen a little harder than was absolutely necessary. As he stepped out and walked the twenty feet to the lab, he wondered just what sort of mayhem he'd be facing.

Then he heard Rodney scream for help.

Running into the lab, he dodged scientists and minions alike, and he burst into the side room in a way that was so action hero-like that if his shoes had allowed it, he'd have slid into the room.

What he saw almost froze his brain.

"Oh, stop being a baby, Rodney, just—"

"No! Get off me, you crazy woman!"

Calypso was trying so hard not to laugh, but John just stared, open mouthed as she tried to divest Rodney of his clothes.

"What the **_HELL_** is going **_ON_** here?!" he demanded, and they stopped, Rodney jumping and then wriggling out of Cal's grasp to hobble over and hide behind John, who tried not to think of it as defending his best friend from a girl, because that was Heightmeyer worthy and he hated shrinks. Cal just shook her head.

"The machine Rodney found takes an image of what hairstyle you want, and the clothes you want to be wearing and materializes them around your body, or in the case of the hair, it changes the hairstyle to whatever you want." she explained, and held her arms out in a sort of 'exhibit A for the prosecution, your honor' manner. John looked at her, eyed the clothes on the floor, and then looked at Rodney, who was readjusting his clothing, his face cherry tomato red. Then he shook his head.

"Right. Cal, no more stripping in the lab, and no more trying to strip Rodney in the lab." And boy was that something he never even had nightmares about saying. "Rodney, you should have known this would happen the second she figured out it was a mini salon/shop machine, and you really have to learn hand to hand from Ronon," He ignored that the man's face went purple, and held up a hand to stave off the arguments that his sister was clearly a crazy person and that crazy people are naturally gifted with the strength of twelve of Ronon. "I'll take over from here, Cal go bother someone else, please." he asked, and she rolled her eyes, but she was more amused than put out as she started to leave. John looked at her and then at the clothes on the floor. "Hey, hey!" he said, and pointed. She rolled her eyes and strapped her gun belt back on before stooping to pick up her clothes.

She was on her way out when she paused, looking at Rodney with a studious expression.

"You know, you could probably try it out when there's no one here to watch," she told him, and he stared at her, slack jawed. "I'd have no problem with suggesting a few outfits that would look good on you," she told him, with complete sincerity. "I have a friend in Wyoming about your build, and he was a fashion _genius_," she added, turning his incredulous expression to one of thoughtful consideration. She smirked, straightened, and shifted the mass of clothes in her arms. "I'll see you later, McKay," she said, winking at him before walking out. He shook his head and looked at John, who shrugged in half apology, half helplessness to change his sister's disposition. Then the Colonel looked at the machine and back at Rodney.

"Knock yourself out. I trust you don't need an audience," Rodney said, before walking back out into the main lab and slumping into his seat, rubbing his forehead for a moment. When the moment had passed, he straightened his lab coat, which tended to pull on his shoulders if he didn't bunch it up in the back. As he was doing this, he paused, his hand on the outside of his pocket, and frowned, before putting his hand into his pocket and pulling out something that hadn't been there before.

He stared for a moment, and then crushed the scrap of lacy, light green fabric in his hand as he put the other to the bridge of his nose and pinched, leaning his elbow on the desk in front of him.

That woman was going to be the death of him, he thought, as he stuffed the thong into the bottom drawer of his desk and got back to work amidst snickers and smothered giggles that he ignored.


	5. Cilantro, Celery seed, and Citrus

Calypso walked around the city of the Ancients with almost a perpetual smile on her face. So this was the sort of thing that the government was up to behind the citizens' backs. She approved. They should do shit like this more often. With the exception of a few unpleasant natives, (And it was Calypso's personal and private opinion that they should be wiped from existence), it was all worth the millions of tax dollars that it took to run these outposts.

And Dr. McKay? Well he was a bonus.

Calypso had never met anyone who was so fun to bother.

She'd gone back to the lab several times for a go at the Salon Shop Interface, each time smiling smugly as she walked in wearing only a towel (John had said no stripping in the lab, he didn't say she couldn't walk in already naked), and returned from the room with a new haircut and new clothes, whistling as she walked away, well aware as she swayed her hips that McKay's eyes were glued to her retreating form.

And yes, her brother had let her know that he found her antics more than a little annoying, but she just reiterated that she knew what she was doing, and that she never impeded him when he had pursued her friends. At which point of course, he would roll his eyes and quote Douglas Adams ("This will all end in tears"), but that only served to make her laugh.

Cal smiled at the memory as she walked into the gym, stepping aside to avoid a hapless soldier being thrown out. Apparently he had done something to offend his tutor, who stared darkly at the door before raising an eyebrow at Calypso, who grinned.

"Ronon," she greeted, and he snorted, going back to the line of instructees.

"You're not my type," he replied automatically, and she laughed.

"I see my brother's been talking about me," she chuckled, shaking her head. "I assure you, you're not my type either," she told him, and he stopped, turning back to her with an intrigued expression on his face.

"From what I hear, male seems to be your type." he argued, and she smirked.

Normal people would be offended at that remark, as it indicated whorish behavior, but Cal had no illusions about her dating history. She liked sex, and she took it where she got it, it was as simple as that. If she happened to like sex with some people more than others, well that was her business, wasn't it?

"That, my friend is an illusion I use to make people think what I want them to think," she confessed, and he looked interested. "Anyway, I came here for a personal sparring lesson. John keeps going on about how you're unbeatable." she told him, shrugging off the jacket she wore everywhere, and unclipping her thigh holster. Ronon tilted his head.

"You think he's wrong?" he asked, and she folded her arms.

"I like a challenge," she replied. He turned and waved the others away before gesturing towards the space in front of him to Calypso, who inclined her head and stepped forward.

Ronon's attack came without warning, and she barely had enough time to evade before he grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her off of her feet.

"Shit!" she had enough time to yelp before her back met mat and all the air went whooshing out of her lungs. He let go of her, and just knelt beside her with a 'too-smug' grin on his face. "Fast," she gasped, and he nodded.

"Where I come from, there are two types of people," he told her, and she sucked in a breath.

"The quick and the dead? That was a great movie," she babbled, looking around as the room stabilized. "Maybe I should quit while I'm ahead, I can still feel my back." she muttered, and Ronon laughed. It was a deep, throaty laugh, and it came straight from the belly. Then he looked down at her, grabbing one of her arms and stood up, pulling her with him. She staggered on her feet, but stayed standing, and then looked up at him. "One day I'm gonna be good enough to kick your ass, Ronon," she promised him, and he snorted again, but his smirk was friendly.

"That'll be the day," he answered, and she patted his arm before stumbling back over to her stuff, collecting it and then moving on. Lunch was about ready to be served, so she headed to the cafeteria. Her smile reappeared when she saw that John and Rodney were in line already. She headed over, getting to the back and turning her hundred watt smile on the people in line.

"Hey, do you mind if I cut in? Wanna hang out with my brother. Hi how are you. Do you mind if I get ahead of you? Only if it's not too much trouble; really? Thanks," and so on, until she got to John. "Boo," she said, and he turned to look at her, and then at the people behind her.

"Cal," he said, in a 'you know better' tone, which she just laughed at, because it sounded ridiculous coming from him.

"Just want to hang with my twin," she whined, and he rolled his eyes.

"You're like a two year old,"

"Look who's talking," she giggled, looking at Rodney. "Hey, McKay, how's your project goin?" she asked, and he blinked at her.

"How'd you find out about it?" he asked. She took a deep breath, shoving her hands in her pockets and shrugging.

"Powers of observation. You weren't drinking your coffee, your eyes never left the screen, but mostly," she tilted her head and smirked. "Mostly it was Zelenka."

"Zelenka?" asked Rodney, and she nodded, which confused Rodney, because Zelenka hadn't been in the lab all morning. He was in the control room, running some sort of test on the dialing computers.

"Yeah, he told me you were working on a way to charge a dummy ZPM to use in case the Wraith attack again." she explained, and he rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "So how's it going?" she asked, but the question didn't have the effect that she expected. Instead, Rodney sighed, folding his arms.

"Not well," he answered, and her smile faded, before she looked at him. She really wanted to make him feel better.

"Oh," she said, before her face lit up again. "So have you tried the Salon/Shop thingy?" she asked, and he rolled his eyes.

"Because 'thingy' is such a scientifically acceptable term," he snapped, before scowling. "No, I haven't," he answered, and she pouted.

"Why not?" she asked, and John rolled his eyes behind her.

"Jeez, Cal, give the man a break, he's busy all the time. I practically had to drag him here just to get him to eat." whined the military commander. Cal raised an eyebrow, surprised. Then she looked at Rodney.

"Okay, that's going to change," she told him, and he gaped at her.

"Excuse me?" he squeaked. Cal held up a hand.

"You're no use to this city if you drop dead from hypoglycemic shock, or hunger, or dehydration," she listed, and he blinked, blindsided by her knowledge of his dietary condition. "And you will get dehydrated if you keep drinking seven cups of coffee a day." she added.

"Whoa, stop right there, you Kirk-clone-caffeine-Nazi," he interrupted her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Don't mess with the coffee." he warned her, but she just rolled her eyes, studying her nails and looking generally unconcerned. "You will never have hot water again," he threatened, and she smirked.

"What makes you think I take hot showers, McKay?" she purred, and the man's annoyed territorialism derailed, his face going blank as he blinked. John just shook his head and sighed, looking at the ceiling as if pleading for divine intervention. They picked up their trays and moved down the line, until they came to the section with the actually cooked food. Calypso smiled at the window cook, who flushed, smiling back. "Hi," she greeted. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please," he muttered, before filling up his tray. Calypso shot him a raised eyebrow, but then turned back to the window cook.

"I was wondering if you could tell me what the ingredients in today's dishes are?" she asked, immediately capturing Rodney's interest. John just groaned.

"Oh, damn, I for_got_," he sighed, and Cal shook her head.

"It's not a big deal, Johnny," she assured him, but Rodney looked curious and the window worker looked nervous. Cal smiled reassuringly at him. "I'm allergic to cilantro and celery seed," she explained, raising Rodney's eyebrows.

"You're _allergic_?" he demanded, and she looked at him, eyebrows furrowed a little as she gave him a confused smile.

"Uh, yeah," she answered, "About as allergic as you are to citrus and bees. That's a bummer, by the way, because I _love_ chocolate oranges," she told him, and he stared. "Rodney, we're kind of holding up the line," she chuckled, and he flushed, moving away. John watched his friend go with a curious expression on his face and then turned to face his sister, who smirked. "Hmm," she hummed, turning back to the server. "So, cilantro? Celery seed?" she asked, and the guy shook his head.

"No, ma'am," he answered, "And I'll make sure Chef knows about your allergies, so there won't be any mix-ups in the future," he added, and she beamed at him, making him blush.

"Thanks, Sergeant…"

"Wilcox," he supplied, and she nodded.

"Well, thank you Sergeant Wilcox," she said, and he nodded. Cal filled up her tray and then snagged an extra cupcake before going over to her brother's table and sitting next to McKay, who glanced at her and then looked determinedly at his own plate.

"So, if you're twins…"

"How come she has allergies?" John asked, and Rodney nodded. "We don't know. Something to do with genealogy," he answered off-handedly. They both stopped when Calypso deposited her extra cupcake onto McKay's tray and then started digging into her own. McKay looked at John, who shrugged, before picking up the pastry and giving it a sniff. When the smell test didn't reveal anything, Cal looked at him.

"I could test it for you if you want. I'm not allergic to citrus, so it won't kill me if there is any," she offered. He looked at her, scrutinizing her expression for a moment before handing the sweet back to her. Carefully peeling down the paper on one side, she took a small bite that was equal parts icing and cupcake, swirling it around her mouth for a moment. "Mm, carrot cake batter and cream cheese icing. No citrus there." she told him, holding it back out for him to take. He looked slightly relieved, reaching out to take the cake and then staring at her when their fingers touched. She smiled at him, and he abruptly became interested in his meal again. She stifled a chuckle and turned back to her own meal, only to look up again at the appearance of her team leader, Major Lorne.

"Ms. Sheppard," he greeted, and she smiled, but the smile was contained.

"Major Lorne. What's up?" she asked. "You here for lunch? You can sit if you'd like," she offered, but he shook his head.

"I've eaten thanks. I just swung by to tell you that our next mission briefing is tomorrow at oh-nine-hundred," he told her, and she nodded sharply.

"Understood. I'll be there," she answered. He left. Calypso looked down at her food and didn't say anything. John watched her for a long moment and then reached over, wrapping his hand over her forearm. She looked at him, surprised.

"Hey," he said, and she blinked. "You okay?" he asked, and her confusion faded into a sad, 'soldiering on' expression. Rodney looked at her too, and she gave them a small, barely there smile.

"I'll live," she answered, taking a deep breath. "I won't get over it, but I'll live, and I'll learn from it, so…" she shrugged. John nodded his face full of concern. "Thanks, John." _Thanks for not pretending it never happened,_ she wanted to add, but didn't, going back to her food. John nodded, letting go of her arm and filling his own fork. Rodney remained silent, busy thinking of the first time he was a witness to the death of a colleague in this place. It wasn't easy, but at least he'd had time to get used to the danger, not just from the Wraith, but from the other people who lived there.

Calypso had been ill-prepared for the dangers of this life, but she had jumped into it head first anyway, and in that way, she was more like Sheppard than he'd suspected. Rodney wondered if she shared the same fearless leader with a savior complex attitude as John.

8888

The days were short on Atlantis, and the nights were long.

This wasn't strictly true, if you looked at it from a factual point of view. Atlantis's day was eighteen hours, which was exactly how long the nights were, but the days seemed shorter, because of Einstein's theory of relativity. 'Time flies…' and all those other clichés.

Rodney rubbed his hand over his face and sighed, staring at the diagnostic that was still running. Searching for something specific in the Ancient Database was a bit like going to the Library of Congress and asking for a book when the only bits of information you have are that it's about cats, and the cover is blue. Groaning, he leaned back in his chair, contemplating napping in his lab.

Eventually he decided against it, because there was no telling how he'd wake up, or who would be there. He had a sudden vision of waking up naked to the sight of Calypso with a camera, and shuddered. Thinking of his best friend's sister, though brought to mind something else, and he rolled his eyes, opening his bottom drawer and pulling out the thong that Cal had slipped him. He shook his head, getting to his feet and grumbling something about Kirk and how he never wore a thong as he walked towards the door. The only other people in the room were Miko, Zelenka, and Kavanagh, but just the same, he raised his voice and ordered everyone to stay away from his desk if they didn't want an in depth education of the sewer systems of Atlantis before leaving and making his way to Cal's quarters.

He'd made a point of finding out where she was living, so that he could avoid walking past in the mornings, as that would invariably lead to disaster, and a possibly painful dismemberment performed by her brother.

Now though, he made a bee line for her door, knocking when he got there. When no one answered, he checked his watch and then flushed. Shit! It was almost midnight! Usually it wouldn't have mattered, but on a planet that had a thirty-six hour day, it was pretty much a given that people (normal people, not scientists), especially those who weren't used to the time difference were zonked out by Thirty-One Hundred if they even made it _that_ long, and that had been five hours ago!

He was just about to go when the door opened, revealing Calypso wrapped in a towel, dripping wet.

Rodney's brain short circuited for a moment, and all he could do was stare.

Calypso didn't appear tired, nor did she seem to have any intention of going to sleep in the near future, however, it was apparent that she'd just been in the shower, and this was the part that Rodney's brain was having trouble with. He watched a drop of water slide down the side of her face to her chin and hang there before someone in the electricity part of his brain kicked the generator and he blinked, his face bursting into color.

"Uh…" he started eloquently, forgetting what he was going to say or even why he was there. Several possible reasons sprang to mind and were immediately ejected, because, hey, self preservation and his best friend's sister. He shook his head, but she chuckled.

"Something I can help you with, Rodney?" she asked, almost innocently, which brought a slightly confused expression to his face. "Something I can turn on for you?" she purred, and he didn't whimper.

He didn't. Honest.

Clearing his throat, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the scrap of green fabric that had brought him to her door, holding it out. Her face exploded into a predatorial grin, putting him immediately on the defensive. Reaching out, she took the thong, but she also took his hand, and he tugged ineffectually at it.

"I was just setting up my chess board. You wanna play?" she asked. There was nothing remotely innocent about the question and he knew that he should say no and go back to his lab where Zerlenkums and Kavanagh and that little Chinese woman would keep him safe, but he felt his feet moving, and he couldn't stop looking at her, powerless to stop himself as she pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him.

He was so screwed.


	6. Chess of more than one variety

Rodney twitched where he was sitting on the bed, glancing at the door before returning his attention to his last six chess pieces.

She was still smiling at him.

In fact, Calypso hadn't _stopped_ smiling at him since she had pulled him into her room, stripped him of his lab coat, and pushed him down onto the bed next to the chess set, which had wobbled dangerously. It vaguely reminded Rodney of the spider's parlor. And she was the spider. It was only a matter of time until she tied him up and started sucking his…_hey! Get those thoughts out of there! What is the matter with you? This is your best friend's sister!_

"You gonna move any time soon?" Calypso drawled, interrupting his daze. He glanced at her, but only long enough to see that she was amused; like she could read every dirty thought he was having – oh god, wasn't that frightening – because any longer and he'd be staring at her towel, thinking _more _dirty thoughts.

"I'm thinking," he snapped, and she snorted.

"Uh huh," she replied, propping her chin up on her fist. Rodney twitched again. How she did that without losing the whole towel… "Thinking about what, exactly?" she asked, and his head jerked up, alarm written on his face. She smirked. "'Cause it isn't chess. You only have one move to make," she told him, and he flushed.

That much was true. Her pieces had cornered his pieces so that any move he made would sacrifice a piece, but only one move would save his king from annihilation. He made that move, losing his last bishop, which put him into checkmate. Cal chuckled and got up, leaving the good doctor to stare at the chessboard.

Rodney twitched, this time not because he was nervous.

Rodney and Calypso had been locked in a chess battle for almost three hours. Out of the ten games they played, Calypso had won half, a phenomenon that he had rarely encountered after the age of ten.

Of course, it probably helped her game that most of the blood that usually ran his brain had flown south for vacation, and he could barely think with the woman sitting almost entirely naked only three feet in front of him. She was probably using that to her advantage. In any case, Rodney McKay was on edge. Nervous that any second her brother would bust down the door despite his casual blessing of 'just don't tell _me_ about it', frustrated at having his concentration so easily shattered, and horny; possibly more so than he'd ever been in his entire life, outside the long, lonely stretch of high school.

"Wanna play again?"

Rodney looked up with the intention of declining and returning to his room for some quality time with Mrs. Rosy Palm and her five friends, but the words 'no thanks' died on his lips when he looked at her.

He was right, she lacked modesty.

She had untucked the only part of the towel that was keeping it in place and let it fall to the floor where it lay in a dejected heap. Rodney gritted his teeth to keep a sympathetic moan from passing his lips as she opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out a faded pair of pink pajamas.

She was naked for a glorious forty-seven and a half seconds, and now Rodney was almost painfully hard.

He really, _really_ had to get out of there, before he did something stupid.

It occurred to him (in the back of his mind, where there wasn't enough blood to carry the thought to the foreground) that she might be flirting, possibly had been flirting since she had arrived, but really, flirting was probably her default setting, from what he'd seen around the city. She smiled at everyone she talked to, and she leaned, almost as much as her brother did, which was only enhanced by her natural feminine charms.

She settled on the bed in front of him, her dark chocolate gaze direct and disarming, and he blinked twice before setting his pieces back up, ignoring that his face was red, and really, how on earth did he have enough blood left in his face to blush?

Not to imply that he was really well endowed, or anything…

_Damn it! Stop thinking like that!_

His pieces were set up and he looked at Cal to see that she was fondling her King.

Which sounds obscene, and looks it too.

It may have been accurate to say that Rodney's eyes were bugging out of his head, and he coughed, trying to focus on the chess board.

"Cal," he said, and she smirked.

"Yes, Rodney," she answered, in a purposely breathy and 'I want you' sort of voice. Rodney twitched again, breath hitching. It may have been possible that he whimpered, but he'd never admit it.

_God, please, stop making her obscenely hot._

"You're white," he told her, and she giggled.

"Yeah?" she asked, and this momentarily distracted him from his arousal, long enough for him to roll his eyes and stare at her reproachfully.

"Cute," he snapped, and she laughed, which knocked the annoyance right out of him, because _god, how extremely unfair is it that even her laugh is hot?_ Desperately, he tried to force his attention to the chess board. "White makes the first move, Cal," he added, and then mentally kicked himself. Oh lord, why? Her predatory grin was back, and her eyes lit up like Christmas.

"If you say so," she replied, dropping the chess piece and leaning forward. Rodney stared at her, leaning back slightly and then jerking in surprise as she placed her hands on his thighs, a little over five inches from the part of him that was _really, really_ interested in these proceedings. His surprise landed his hands on top of hers, which she smirked at and brought her face very close to his. He vaguely noted that he was panting, but he really couldn't help it, not even to wipe the smug look off her face. "Fair warning: I'm going to kiss you now," she told him, and he made an indistinct choking noise as her hands squeezed where they had landed.

"And I may faint," he replied, through no really clear decision of his brain to do so. And he so didn't care, because she was smiling and _dear_ **_god_** it was so unfair how beautiful she was.

And then her lips were touching his and his train of thought derailed completely. The tracks were crooked and there was a bomb, and right now, the helicopters were circling looking for survivors.

His hands moved up her arms, up to her petit shoulders, which fit just perfectly in his hands as he leaned into the kiss, tilting his head to get better access. She growled into his mouth, shifting forward on the bed and—

—a sharp crash made them jump, and then looked at the chessboard, which was on the floor, amidst the scattered pieces of crafted plastic. One of the bishops had been beheaded. Cal looked at Rodney, a chunk of bangs falling over one eye, and giggled before leaning forward again.

Rodney started to lean forward too, not really all that concerned with the chess set, but then one thought climbed out of the train wreck and started jumping up and down, waving its arms, and he stopped, holding her back.

"I can't," he blurted, and she blinked.

"Pardon?" she asked, confused, and he gently pushed her back until she was once again sitting on her side of the bed, looking bewildered.

"I, uh – I just remembered that I have a mission briefing tomorrow," he checked his watch, "today. Later, and I really need to get some sleep, and I have to go, because, um…" he grasped at a way to explain it tactfully. "Well, I, um… I should go." he said, standing up. He stared at the way her face was suddenly red, and then blushed himself, grabbing his lab coat from where she'd dropped it and holding it in front of him, coughing.

"Wow, Rodney," she breathed, looking up at him with darkened eyes. His face turned even more red as she got up, prowling towards him. "You should stay," she said, nodding, and he backed up towards the door.

"I really shouldn't. Not that I don't want to—" he babbled, and really, how could he not? She was in full sex-predator mode, and wow, that was hot. "Boy, do I want to. That is—um, I left something on in the lab that I really should take care of—oomph…" he looked at the door that he was backed up against, and then back at Calypso, who was staring at him in a way that was reminiscent of a wolf and a piece of meat. "Um…"

"I'll make sure you get enough sleep, Rodney," she promised, and he whimpered.

"No, see, I need to be very well rested, and I really don't think that staying wou-mmmph!"

His eyes slammed shut, and his hands switched to automatic, gripping Cal's waist as she strip searched his mouth.

There was an alarm in his head that was ringing. A warning that he should either get out of there or get naked soon, or nothing was going to happen.

With Herculean effort, he pushed her back (gently, he wasn't trying to hurt her), and babbled something incoherent before opening the door and stumbling out into the hall, fleeing.

Calypso looked up at her door from where she had tripped and fallen on her butt, and licked her lips thoughtfully.

This wasn't over.


	7. Long live the Queen, er, queens?

Sorry it took so long to put this one out. I kind of got distracted with the new Stargate Series I've been working on. Check it out if you want. Stargate Evolution: Alternate Destinies. I now return you to your irregularly schedulaed program

The next day, Cal had to go talk to Dr. Weir, because apparently someone had checked personnel files, and discovered that she'd usurped the identity of one of their passengers in order to get to Atlantis. In response to this accusation, Calypso dutifully assumed responsibility, and accepted whatever punishment that Weir saw fit to give her. Her plan of course was to inspire a feeling that she deserved a second chance for her honesty (HA!) and integrity.

It worked like a charm.

She went to the mess for her daily cup of coffee, and smiled when she encountered Rodney in the hall. Of course, this interaction was limited to him seeing her from down the hall and then scurrying off to the safety of his lab, but still...

"Hey, Cal," called Kavanagh on his way out of the commissary as she was on her way in. Kavanagh was actually pretty nice to her, although John had posited that this might have been because the man thought she could influence her brother in anyway other than inspiring him to mischief. She smiled at the scientist.

"Hey, Cal," she replied, and he snorted.

"I copied the crossword book I got from home, thought you might want something to keep you occupied off hours," he told her, holding out the sheaf of papers with a homemade binding. She accepted the gift with a surprised smile and a blush.

"Wow, Calvin, thanks a bunch," she said, and he shrugged before digging in his pocket and producing a pen. She nodded, taking it and tucking it behind her ear. He nodded and then cleared his throat when the moment grew longer and neither of them said anything.

"Right. Well, Hermiod needs me to help him with something on the Daedalus, so, have fun with the crosswords." he said, and she nodded.

"I will. Thanks again," she told him, before continuing on to the counter where the coffee was, and then to the nearest empty table. New recruits were arriving that day on the Daedalus, so she lounged in the cafeteria, jacket-less (it was really warm today for some reason), enjoying her lukewarm coffee. She wasn't on duty, so unless they called for her, she was going to enjoy herself.

The mission briefing that morning had been about recon for an alpha site. They still hadn't found a suitable one, the Wraith making it increasingly difficult for anywhere to be considered safe. She tried not to think about it as she filled out an expert crossword.

"Hi," said someone as they slid into the seat across from her. She looked up to see a square-jawed marine, probably new, smiling at her in what she supposed he thought was a charming way. She gave him a quick once over out of habit, and then went back to her coffee.

"Something I can help you with, Marine?" she asked, filling out twenty-six down for _Marine Corp. Nomenclature_ as Jarhead. Her visitor looked nonplussed.

"Not really, I just thought you looked like you could use some company," he replied, and she refrained from rolling her eyes, but only barely.

"Wow." she said instead, looking up at him and putting down her pen. He blinked. "Laying it on awfully thick, aren't you?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "I mean with _that_ tone you might as well just forego the pleasantries and ask if I want a private tour of your bedroom." she told him matter-of-factly. He didn't seem to get it, because his smile grew.

"Was that a yes?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes, gathering her book, pen, and coffee cup.

"I think you can spank your own monkey," she told him, walking off.

Halfway down the hall, she stopped walking, staring into space as a thought occurred to her. She took a sip of coffee, nodded a little, and then adjusted course. Two minutes later, she was sitting in her brother's room as he prepared to address his new troops.

"I had the best idea over coffee today," she started, as she walked into the room unannounced. For his part, he looked unphased.

"If it has to do with why Rodney twitches at your very name, I don't want to know about it," John told her, and she blinked, momentarily diverted from her original topic of conversation.

"He twitches?" she asked, interested. "Really?" John looked at her, and she shook her head. "No, you're right; completely beside the point. I want to address the new troops." she told him, and he stopped, staring at her. There was a moment where neither of them did anything, and then he leaned against the edge of his desk, folding his arms.

"Alright, I'll bite. You can't," he told her, in a manner that suggested he knew that what her response to that would be.

"Why not?" she asked, not one to disappoint her twin.

"Because you're not the military leader of Atlantis," he answered, in the same tone as before, nodding his head to indicate that she should give the punchline now. She snapped her fingers and pointed at him.

"But they don't know that."

There was a moment of silence during which they both stared at each other and Cal just sipped her coffee, a mischievous glint in her eyes, before John abruptly stood up, regarding his twin.

"Alright. I concede. You are – for now at least – Queen Prankster. The king is dead, long live the queen." he said, and she smirked, giving an exaggerated bow. John took off his jacket and handed it to her, the grin on his face matched only by the one on his sister's.

"Ten hut!" snapped Lorne – who was in on it – as Calypso swaggered into the control room and sauntered down the steps until she was about midway, high enough to look over the entire group of newbies, some of whom looked confused, one of whom looked warily suspicious.

"Major," she greeted Lorne, with a head nod. He was careful to keep his smirk hidden as he nodded back.

"Colonel," he replied. Calypso turned to the group of men and women.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, My name is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," she lied, watching with satisfaction as all of them looked surprised, and one of them in particular looked sick. "I will be your commanding officer for your stay on Atlantis. We don't have many rules around here, so I'm sure you'll pick them up quickly, but rule number one around here – as this _is_ an alien city with technology we know next to nothing about – is: Do not go anywhere or touch anything you're not supposed to. As those of you with twenty/twenty vision have probably noticed, I had to learn this lesson the hard way," she said, with a grand sweep of one arm. "Respect the scientists, they're smarter than you, but don't be afraid to speak up if you have an opinion. Getting ripped a new one should this opinion not be shared by our resident Geek squad is no reason not to point out something that you think is wrong. For one it keeps them thinking, always a good thing.

"Follow orders, but not blindly. If you think there's a problem, or you don't understand the reasons for the order, ask about it. I can't tell you the number of times that Atlantis or the SGC has been compromised by alien consciousnesses in the heads of high ranking officers, or shapeshifters assuming their identities," Because she didn't know. "Other than that—"

"Cal, what the hell are you doing? Where's John?"

Cal whirled around, looking at McKay in surprise, and then glancing at the troops, who were now looking suspicious for different reasons, before walking up the steps and heading over to McKay. She grabbed his arm, walking away with him, ignoring the look of wary suspicion on his own face. When they had rounded the corner and were out of sight of most of the soldiers, but not Lorne, she let go of him and started sprinting down the corridor, manic grin on her face. There was a yelp from McKay behind her as the few new recruits not held back by Lorne came ripping down the hall after her. She slid into the opening transporter and hit a destination, flattening herself against the wall as the soldiers made it to the transporter just as the doors closed.

Fortunately, the issue was resolved by Weir without bloodshed, and Cal had the immense satisfaction of watching a certain marine's face turn ashen at the mention of her relation to their military commander.

Later, after her shower, she wandered through the city in search of things to do. She saw Lorne down the hall and waved, as did he.

"That was awesome, right?" she asked, and he snickered.

"Couldn't have planned it better myself," he answered.

"You think they'll hold a grudge?" she asked, and he batted the idea away with one hand as he shook his head.

"They'll get over it. You learn pretty quickly that everyone here takes care of everyone else, and the little shit doesn't matter," he told her. She nodded, and then looked around as the lights dimmed some and the ground shook a little. They shared a look and then keyed their radios.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Major Lorne,"

"Rodney, it's Cal, what's up?" she asked.

Neither of them got an answer. Cal looked at Lorne, who was wearing a similar expression of worry, and keyed her radio again.

"Kavanagh, you got your ears on?" she asked.

"Cal! –Can ba—ly hea-- --ou!" the scientist came back, and she tried her best to keep her voice calm.

"Calvin, very calmly and slowly state your location," she told him.

"We--- North—st pier. –borat—y! Cal?"

"I'm here. Say again, Northwest or northeast?" she asked, but all she could hear was static. She looked at Lorne, and then the two of them were running down the hall.

"Dr. Weir, this is Major Lorne—" started the officer as they went. Cal, on the other hand, went a different route.

"Chuck, this is Cal, I need you to scan the Northwest and Northeast piers for life signs."

"The Northeast pier? Isn't that were Sheppard and McKay were supposed to be today?" answered the technician. As she and Lorne reached the transporter and the doors opened, she cursed, tapping the glowy dot that corresponded with her destination. She also pulled out her sidearm.

"You have a life signs detector on you?" she asked, and he reached into his pocket.

"Never leave home without it," he answered distractedly. "They're this way, come on," he said, and she nodded, gun at the ready in case they were dealing with some crazed experiment gone wrong. When they got to the room, the door wouldn't open, and Cal pried off the door panel to find that all the crystals were fried. Sighing, she keyed her radio again.

"Zelenka, this is Sheppard, could you bring a new set of door crystals, as well as – and I really hope it doesn't come to this – a cutting torch?" she asked. On the other end of the line, the Czech scientist sighed.

"One of these days, Rodney will give day off, and that will make me happy,"

"Not likely," she told him.

"I will be there momentarily,"

"Thank you,"

Twenty minutes, three more broken crystals, and some creative swearing later, half the door was gone, and Cal stepped in to find that Sheppard and McKay were on the floor, and Kavanagh was nervously looking between them. He looked at her, and she blinked.

"She's going to kill me," he told her, and she blinked.

"Who? Weir?"

He gave a hysterical giggle.

"Colonel Sheppard."

Cal blinked at him for a moment, and then looked down at her brother, who did indeed seem a little bit on the thin side, and whose butt now filled his pants better, despite slimmer looking hips. She knelt down and rolled him over, and then blinked some more as she looked into the mirror image of her own face. She nodded, for a lack of anything productive to say, and then looked at Rodney.

Rolling him over, she was presented with very feminine features for a man, including mammary glands that were going to need support if he didn't want back issues. She blinked at him and then looked up at Lorne, who was staring. She sighed, and keyed her radio.

"Carson, this is Cal, are you busy?"


End file.
